


fight

by Newaged_skulls



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Forge Sex, I couldn't help myself, Inspired by Fanfiction, Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, Trauma, aryasbadenergy, finally something other than a drabble, i needed more tattoo'd gendry in my life, light gore, slightly rough sex, talk about protection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-01 17:49:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19182748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newaged_skulls/pseuds/Newaged_skulls
Summary: I needed more of this AU in my life._______This was the dumbest thing Arya Stark had ever done. Starks weren't suppose to join fight clubs.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [don’t take the money](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18515518) by [aryasbadbenergy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryasbadbenergy/pseuds/aryasbadbenergy). 
  * Inspired by [don’t take the money](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18515518) by [aryasbadbenergy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryasbadbenergy/pseuds/aryasbadbenergy). 



> This first chapter is tame but things will get more explicit in later chapters.

This was the dumbest thing Arya Stark had ever done. 

Wrapped knuckles struggled to make a closed fist and get her thumb far enough down it wouldn’t break. Too much fabric she thought to herself, debating on just taking them off outright. There was no time for that though, she had to fight. 

She stepped out into the chalk ring when her name - the Wolf - was called, sucking in a big gulp of sweaty hot air. Her father would kill if her if he ever learned of this. Wealthy families don’t fight themselves, they buy warriors and fighters for it. People born with that lust for blood. It was a mystery how Arya ended up with that same lust. 

A half hearted wave was all she did as she stepped into the center, looking at her opponent for the first time. They were both small with round faces, their bodies held together with long stretchy muscles. She had more scars than Arya did, crooked teeth peaking through a cheeky grin. Arya wouldn’t have been surprised if she was a waif, a street kid trying to claw their way out. 

The announcer stopped talking, cheers deafening in Arya’s ears as she took her stance. Her gut twisted inside her, all her muscles tightening and getting ready. The bell rang, she shot forward.

Her back hit the ground with a shattering thud, her lungs emptying completely with a loud gasp. Even her brain couldn’t understand what just happened. How was she suddenly on the ground? The Waif grinned at her, shaking her head before walking off - the match called. 

Struggling, Ayra rose to her shaky legs. Everything screamed and she wondered if that sound had been something breaking after all. She could walk at least. Frustrated tears bubbled as she limped out of the ring so the next match could take place. Cheering faded as she made her way to her things. 

It wasn’t like she had never fought before. She had multiple brothers and unlike the delicate Sansa, she would throw herself into the dirt with them. Her arm had been broken in one of these rows, and Mama Stark’s fury had almost levelled their home. Limping into the locker esque area, she sat, looking at her hands before slowing beginning to unwrap them. Her lips pursed in a tight line. 

“You’re late Waters” she heard the match organizer snap loudly. 

He replied, but honestly she couldn’t hear a thing because the sight of him was deafening. A large stag tattoo somehow enhanced the large muscles in his arm. His jawline was sharp and peppered with stubble. She could even see a little side-pec action going on from his shirt. The old gods and the new gods must have teamed up on this one. 

Swallowing thickly, she collected herself, packing up her accessories in her bag. They exchanged quick hellos as he walked past her, her voice surprisingly relaxed despite the nerves inside her. The desire to run home faded as she threw her backpack on and raced to the observation area. 

Being small in a large crowd of sweaty men sucked. She wormed her way to the railing, quickly shoving her bangs out of her face. He had a Bull tattoo on the other arm, beautifully done. Her heart almost stopped when he pulled off his shirt and she could feel her veins in a completely new way. 

The details of his fight were a blur. She remembered the snap of his arm muscles as he landed a solid hit. The smug look in his blue eyes when he found a way to break free from their grapple. The ripple of his abs as he hurled the other guy to the ground with a thud. The other fighters face was a mystery because how could anyone concentrate on anything else? Even the cheering as he one sounded hollow in her ears. 

Her phone vibrating furiously in her pocket brought her back to her loud reality. It was a text from Bran that she needed to come back soon because Mom and Dad were on their way home. She bolted from the club, hailing an uber quickly. 

Winterfell Manor was most people’s dream home. A huge, gated estate nestled intermist a beautiful protected forest. The home itself was a grey, stone masterpiece with some of the best architecture in the area. The Uber stopped just outside the gates, gawking a bit as she climbed out. To get to the door meant awakening the night guard to hit the button - who would certainly tell her parents that she surprised him with her late arrival. Because no 18 year old ever stays out late. 

Instead, she darted around the gate to the Old Trees that were easy to climb. Their branches hung over the gate allowing her to drop safely on the other side. From there it was an easy dash to her home, quietly slipping in through the back and up into her room. A quick look in the mirror showed no facial bruises to worry about for tomorrow, so into bed she could go. 

Sure enough, her parents arrived shortly after, the gate creaking loudly as it opened for them. She texted Bran a quick thank you before shutting her phone off for the night. 

Sleep didn’t come at all because he was on her mind still. Waters was such a weird last name. Or maybe it was his first name. She vaguely recalled hearing something about “The Bull” but honestly she could just be making that up because she remembered absolutely nothing other than the way he moved. 

Her veins caught on fire again, heat pooling low in her belly. Biting her lip, she let her fingers brush against her center. The jolt sent shivers down her body, pulling her eyes shut. He would be able to lift her against the wall like they do in movies. He seemed like the type to have drowning kisses, never ending ones at that. She could feel his jaw against her neck, maybe even some teeth, his hands hard against her hips. She’d dig claw marks into his back. That smirk of his spelled danger for her because she knew he’d torture her a bit. The good kind of torture that drives you mad. She had no idea how she would fight against something like that, so giving in seemed like the better option. She wanted him to make her howl.

She came with a quiet gasp, her heart beating hard in her chest. For a long moment she laid there, letting her brain come back. 

She needed to see him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya contemplates what to do next after getting beaten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My finals are done, I have no new work for the week, and a lot of pink lemonade cider to motivate me. kind of a transitional chapter, but it will lead to better things.

Sitting through breakfast was a painful experience. Sansa had just graduated from Business school and was getting ready to go onto her Masters. Robb had begun taking over more manger positions at their fathers company. Jon had been taking over Dad’s more fringe assests. Bran was getting ready to start college for theology - snore. The question always came back to Arya and what she was going to do with her life, and honestly she didn’t know. 

How can one make a decision like that? Oh this is what you’re going to do for 60 years so you better make it now and quickly. She was content carving her own path, much to the frustration of everyone else.

After helping her mother with the dishes, she slipped away from the manor. Mr. Seaworth, the fight organizer, also managed the Baratheon gym in town. He would know more about this Mr. Waters fellow and she wanted another chance at the Waif. Killing two birds with one stone right?

Until he said no. 

“No?” she yelled “Why not?” 

“She beat you, Ms. Stark. And not a particularly hard fought win either.” he replied, ducking behind the counter of the gym to create some distance between them. 

“I can beat her! Just give me another chance!” She demanded, slamming her hands on the counter. He sighed, looking at her with this annoying solem look in his eyes.

“I can’t in good conscience, I am sorry,” He said before disappearing into the managerial door. She pursed her lips tightly, drumming her fingers against the counter for a moment. She would convince him otherwise, she had to. 

Throwing headphones on - with really loud angry music - she took to the bags. Wailing on them made her feel better. It was a shallow better, but better none-the-less. She didn’t know how long she had been throwing punches but everything hurt enough to tell her it was time to stop for the day. 

She glanced around the gym once more and didn’t see him at all.

The entire ride home, her face was bunched in annoyance. She had to find a way back into that ring. She thought about asking her father - who once boxed - for help finding a trainer but she knew her mother would get in the way of that instantly. If any of her brothers asked they would have bent over backwards for them but not for her. This wasn’t an “appropriate” option for her. Fencing was, and while she loved it, it definitely wasn’t the same. 

It took two whole, grueling days before more matches dropped via the discord server. While she couldn’t fight for now, that didn’t mean she couldn’t go and watch right? 

Entering the basement of the gym was weird with a crowd. So many bodies forced into such a close space. The morbid part of her realized this would be ideal for some sort of gas attack but she quickly pushed the thought from her mind. She, instead, forced her way to a good seat through some well placed elbow jabs and some swearing. 

She ended up getting lucky and finding an actual seat at the small bar area on the north side of the ring. This place was the first to go but she wasn’t going to complain about her luck. In the chair she was a much better height to see things than she was normally. Next to her was this terrifying man with burn scars on his face who weirdly seemed sweet. 

“Learn your lesson?” he said, his voice deep and rumbling over his beer. 

“Nope.” she replied, with a grin. “Just doing recon.” He smiled a bit and left her alone after that. 

The fights tonight weren’t great. Waif yet again had a quick win, only now Arya could see the weird leg flip maneuver that cost her the last fight. It was a good move - quick, powerful, and effective. For the crowds it was barely a warm up. The next fight was a boy named Loras who actually fought pretty well for a ju-jitsu person. He won in one of the most painful looking grapples she has seen. Following that was another fight that was equally uninteresting. The crowd’s ambivalence was palpable.

Finally, he was up. She learned his name was Gendry “the Bull” Waters. His name could melt her if it wasn’t for the sudden spike in crowd interest. He was going against Loras from the earlier fight which was surprising. He was going to be hurting after two back to back fights like this. 

The bell rang.  
While Loras was all technique, Gendry was all strength. Loras kept trying to pin him with various grapples but Gendry kept finding his way free. They went on for eons. 

“If you watch his fists over his biceps you might actually learn something, girl,” her bar companion snarked. She shot a few curse words at him because how could someone not look at his biceps? She tried to focus on what he was actually doing but it was hard. Watching his back muscles seize as he lifted Loras up and threw him was intoxicating. She couldn’t help but feel her thighs would look better than Loras’ when they finally got Gendry’s arm in an arm bar. 

Gendry tapped, much to the uproar of the crowd. She didn’t blame him for a loss was better that the dislocated shoulder he was facing. Next time, he’d win just like she would. Easy wins were boring. 

The final match was the elegant Snake Oberyn against some no name from another country. They had a good match too but ultimately, Oberyn won. 

The crowd dissipated after that, not eager to entice cops. She went home and touched herself again to the thought of him, moaning his name loudly in her head now that she knew it. Arya decided pretty quickly she liked the sound of his name when she moaned it. It wasn’t weird like Sansa’s ex Jeoffery. It was a good fit for the shape of her lips. Just like he’d be a good fit for the space between her legs. 

Another grueling morning, and another trip to the gym. Only this time, she caught her snarky companion there. 

She furrowed her brows, coming up to his bench that he’d claim. “Stalking me?” she challenged. 

He wiped the sweat of his brow, glaring at her. “Fuck off, girl, let a man workout in peace.” She almost left, but she caught the scars on his arms in addition to the burns to his face. 

“Do you fight?”

“When I want to.” He looked like a man who fought in wars, not little basement brawls. He probably won pretty readily just on his size alone. It’s hard to put big men down. He could probably crush her without much difficulty at all. 

“Would you train me?” An impulsive decision, but one that didn’t feel awful. He’d be better than her “dancing teacher” when she was younger that her dad had tried to sneak past her mom. His techniques weren’t awful at all, but this man could teach her to do a lot more. 

He laughed. A short, deep laugh. “Train you how to die?” he retorted. 

“Train me to fight better.”

“You don’t even know how to fight.”

She crossed her arms, staring at him with furrowed brows and the borderline patented ‘Stark Stern Face’. “I know how to fight.” 

He shook his head, gathering his things. “Go ask your rich fucking family to pay for a trainer then.” He stood, Arya realizing just how tall he was for the first time. 

“I can’t. They don’t know.” she mumbled, trying to maintain her glare at least a little. 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be fighting.” He replied, walking out of the weights area and soon out of the gym. She watched him leave, knowing he was probably right. She probably shouldn’t be fighting but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to.

She lost herself in her music after, wailing on the bags hard enough to make her knuckles bleed under the gloves. She could be strong. She was so lost in a Papa Roach song in particular, she almost had a heart attack when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She also almost kicked Gendry in the face. 

She almost kicked Gendry.

Her brain short circuited when she saw his face. His lips moved, saying something but she couldn’t hear because of the music and her brain not working. More the music’s fault but not really. She pulled a headphone out of her ear. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh… I just wanted to le’ you know ,your left wrist is buckling a bit, when you hit.” He even had a gorgeous accent. Old and New Gods were just fucking with her now. 

She swallowed quickly, her left wrist suddenly hurting a lot more than she realized. “Oh.. um Thanks.” she replied, giving a quick smile. He returned the smile before throwing his own headphones on and walking off towards the weight room. 

She gathered her things as calmly as she could, trying to ignore her heart screaming to stay and lick the sweat off of his abs after he was done. She needed to focus on getting stronger and better, not him. Not till after she beat the Waif she resolved. 

Now it was just a matter of getting better.


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days crawled by. Her mystery future trainer hadn’t been to the gym in two days, neither had the wonderful Gendry. Mr. Seaworth still would not let her fight. Her routine had become gym, napping, and attempting to focus on her family being all together for the first time in months. 

Jon had asked her to go riding instead of the gym, which she said yes to quickly. Their horses were content trotting around the back scape of the manor, pausing to munch on food as needed or drink from the pond. 

“You okay?” Jon asked quietly, looking at her with concerned eyes. 

“Of course I am,” She replied with an attempt at a convincing smile. His eyes scanned her face for a long minute and she suddenly saw how much older he seemed. The cold of the Northern Wall must have been more brutal than she thought. He gave her a small smile and clasped her head with one big hand.

“You can always talk to me,” he said. She smiled, nodding. It was true, but for now there wasn’t anything she needed to talk about. They continued their ride with the odd jab and silly joke, laughter filling her face. She hadn’t realized how stressed she had been about the fights. Returning home for dinner, things felt like they had taken a turn for the better. 

The next morning, she went to the gym at opening, startling Mr. Seaworth. “You’ve got light feet, Ms. Stark,” he said with a small smile, down at her. She smiled pleasently. 

“Is there going to be another ‘training session’ tonight?” she asked quietly. He nodded, giving her a small card with a time on it. It had fancy gold lettering and a curious religious quote written underneath in red letters. She lifted the card a bit, giving him a confused face. He shugged. 

“Mr. Baratheon has found the lord of light.” He explained firmly, a tinge of annoyance to his voice. She vaguely remembered her father mentioning something about Robert and the brothers fighting about it. She shrugged, tucking the card away.

“Do I get to have a match tonight?” She asked coyly, hopefully. 

He gave her a firm look. “It doesn’t have to be the Waif again - it can be anyone.” She pleaded. “You’ve seen me in here practicing, you know I can fight, and I wont let myself get hurt, I’ll tap out.” 

He sighed heavily. He ran a gloved hand over his head, looking down at a list of names. “Fine.” He begrudgingly said. “You’ll fight Meera Reed.”

She yelped happily, sneaking behind the counter to hug him. “Thank you!” she rejoiced. He softed a bit, giving her a gentle pat before shooing her off to work. She went lighter at the gym this morning, spending more time on stretching to make sure her muscles would be good for tonight. Again, neither of them could be seen but it was rather early after all. She didn’t care as much today.

That night she snuck out again, the watchful Bran serving as her lookout. Her uber was more talkative than an uber should be, but she made it to the lockers without issues. Mr. Seaworth introduced her to Meera, who gave her a small smile and hoped for a good fight. Arya liked her. 

Arya was going to kick her ass though. 

Not innocently, she found a locker with a faded bull sticker on it and picked one nearby. So far things had begun to look good for her so why not see how far that luck will go? 

He came in as she was wrapping her right hand - a bit looser this time around but still snug. Today he hadn’t even bothered to put his shirt on, instead slinging it over his shoulder, his bag in his other hand. Never in a million years did she think she’d be swooning over a boy, but she also hadn’t imagined a guy like him. 

He smiled at her, cocking his head to the side. “You’re fighting tonight?” 

She nodded, “I’ll be fighting Meera.” 

“She shouldn’t put you on your back as quickly,” he ripped with a cheeky grin, popping his locker open and shoving his bag inside. She felt her shoulders puff a bit.

“It was one fight!” He laughed - a beautiful deep gorgeous laugh. “I’m not sure it was a fight from what I heard.” A quick jab to his arm earned her only more laughter. She wasn’t sure if she should be mad about it cause she could definitely get used to the sound of it.

“You’ll see tonight,” She said confidently. “Of course, M’lady.” She went to jab him again but this time he caught her wrist. Surprised, she attempted to jerk her arm back but he held it firmly, looking at her wraps. 

“Can I?” He asked, lifting her wrist slightly. She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. He undid her wraps about halfway, carefully re-wrapping them. His grip was firm but his fingers were surprisingly gentle. He wove the fabric through her fingers differently, much more comfortably actually. 

“Better?” She nodded, words caught in her through. He motioned for her other hand which she let him take. He wrapped her left wrist with the same meticulously gentle fingers and all she could think about was them inside her. She bet he was good at doing a lot of things with his fingers and she needed them. 

Somehow she managed to keep a blush off her cheeks when he finished, flexing her fingers in the wraps and was able to make a much better fist. 

“Meera is left handed too” He mentioned off handedly. 

“Thank you,” she said weakly, barely getting the words out of her mouth in any semblance of an even tone.

“Ms. Stark!” Mr. Seaworth yelled, and she barely remembered to close her locker before bolting to him. Everything inside her was on fire and she needed to do something other than get lost in those beautiful eyes and that beautiful laugh. She half heard Gendry say “Good Luck” but she may have also imagined it. 

Stepping out into the ring, she took several deep breaths, trying to get to a good center. Meera gave her a curious look but didn’t let that deter anything. With the sound of the bell, they lunged. Meera was a much better match for Arya than the Waif. They were similarly strong and more than stubborn. They took turns, landing square hits and escaping good grapples. They were almost too similar of fighters. 

Till Arya saw Meera’s foot slip a tiny bit as she recoiled for a punch. Arya grabbed her wrist, flipping her off balance and over her arm. Arya followed her to the ground carefully, pinning her arm in a painful submission. Meera, to her credit, struggled a bit, trying to get out. 

She ultimately tapped. 

Cheers filled Arya as a huge grin split her face. She helped Meera up before going to Mr. Seaworth for the announcement. She could see her grumpy companion giving her a half-assed clap from the bar before downing a pint that seemed so small in his hands. 

Back in the Lockers, Arya couldn’t help herself from feeling giddy. Meera laughed a bit at her before talking her into exchanging numbers so they could practice together more. Honestly, Arya wasn’t going to complain about having someone to fight against versus just hitting the bag day in and day out. 

“Not Bad M’lady,” Gendry said from his perch, leaning against the lockers with crossed arms and one headphone in. 

“Don’t call me that,” She replied pointing a finger at him sternly. “And I told you so.”

He laughed, walking past her as Mr. Seaworth called for him. She watched him walk away, appreciating the view. She began to unwrap her hands, a silly warm feeling in her chest. Her face hurt from smiling by the time she finally got back home. 

She really could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue is hard, good lord.


	4. Chapter 4

Her keen eye mother took little time to realize the joy coming off Arya the next morning as she cleaned out stables. “You’re awfully happy” Her mother commented, voice ending in a question. Arya shrugged her shoulders a bit. “I had a good day yesterday.” Her mother’s brows furrowed ever so slightly before softening again. Her arms came out from her sides and Arya gave her a quick hug. “I’m glad,” she said into her hair.

Arya finished mucking the stalls in record time for her. She rushed off to the gym with curious looks from her parents trailing her out the door. At the gym, she saw him deadlifting in the back corner to himself. 

“I told you I could fight,” she said, walking up behind him as he topped out his lifted. He dropped the weight with a loud thud and a grunt, rubbing his palm with his thumb slightly. 

 

“I’ve seen better.” He said with the faintest hint of a grin as her eyes sharpened at him. 

“You could help me get better.” She was firm, her eyes following his face in the mirror as he turned his back to her. 

“Aye, I probably could.” 

She gave a hard sigh, “Will you?” 

“No, now go away girl.” He grumbled at her, get ready to lift again. She groaned loudly, stomping away to her favorite bag. Someday she’d convince him to help her but she could still get better on her own. She texted Meera to see if she was available to spar a bit, but she was not. She was taking her brother to the doctor for something. 

Headphones in, she chose some vintage Punk her mom hated to carry her through her workout today. She tried to work more on using her elbows, not just her fists. She was 4 songs deep into her workout when she caught him walking in out of the corner of her eye.

He stopped by the desk to speak to Mr. Seaworth, she slyly plucked a headphone out of her ear. Today his muscle shirt may has well have been a rag because it did little to actually cover him. She could hear Mr. Seaworth ribbing him for it, their laughter filling the gym. She smiled to herself, before deciding she was done for the day. 

Collecting her things, she headed towards the front, doing her best to not look interested in them at all. “Ms. Stark?” Mr. Seaworth called, forcing her to pause and look up from her phone. He smiled at her. 

“Better job last night.” He said and she smiled back. “Told you,” 

He extended a card for her to take, another match was happening tonight. “I won’t have a fight for you tonight, but watching can be beneficial for you both.” She cocked her head to the side, glancing at Gendry.

“Some out of towners wanna fight and don’t want to lose,” he said with a shrug. “Where are they from? Riverrun?” she asked, Mr. Seaworth shaking his head. 

“They’re from King’s Landing so the bets tonight will be good,” Mr. Seaworth had some disdain in his voice. “Interesting,” she said curiously, wondering if her father’s friend Robert was coming too. This would certainly be up his alley although his beer gut probably would get in the way. “I’ll be there,” she lifted the card a little before turning to head home as planned. 

She faintly heard something getting smacked but she feared looking back to check. 

When she got home - she had an answer. 

Robert was definitely coming.

Winterfell Manor was buzzing with more people than she had seen in her life. They were rushing around the grounds, machine’s whirring, washing happening at a frantic pace. She slipped through them as best as she could, finding her mother in the center of the crazy.

“What is going on?” She asked her mother. 

“Robert and his family will be staying with us for the next week,” she said through tight teeth. Her mother didn’t like Robert, or his wife Cersei. Both of them could be quite cold and rude when they wanted to be. Their children weren’t the best either, although Jeoffery certainly was eons worse than the other two. 

“Is there anything…?” Arya asked, hoping the answer was no. Her mother shook her head and waved her off. Arya darted back into the manor, up to the rooms where her siblings had gathered. Both Robb and Sansa had mother’s same annoyed look on their faces. They were definitely their mother’s children whereas Arya and Bran looked more like their Father. 

Jon looked over at her, arms folded across his chest. She felt a small panic that Bran had told them something but she knew he wouldn’t do that. “Um… everything okay?” 

“Jeoffery,” Robb said through firm lips, Sansa groaning slightly. They had a brief high school romance that came to a screeching halt when Jeoffery had been accused of murdering a prostitute named Ros. Somehow, he was found innocent but he’d been forced to go to Lannisport under his grandfather Tywin’s care to keep the peace in Kings Landing. It was a big, ugly scandal for the normally scandal prone Baratheon family. 

“He isn’t stupid enough to try anything here,” Sansa said quietly earning a laugh from Arya. “He definitely is.” 

Jon and Robb both sighed a bit. “We’ll deal with him if he does. Theon will be coming back tonight too.” Theon had been their foster brother for a time, he wasn’t awful… just mildly awful in Arya’s eyes. He would definitely join into a fight though. Iron Islanders loved to fight and then boast about it after. 

The sibling meeting broke up after that, Arya snagging Bran before he disappeared to “study” or get high - she really wasn’t sure anymore. 

He rolled his eyes at her instantly. “Tonight is not a good night to go,” he whispered. “I’ve got to go, I have a fight,” she lied. She mostly was excited to see Gendry and maybe talk to him some more. Maybe hookup in the bathroom. She was flexible. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, holding out his hand. She slipped a $20 into it quickly. They retreated to their bedrooms to ‘get ready’ for the dinner. Arya wasn’t one for dolling up, so she snuck over to Sansa’s room for help. 

They used to not get along, and still don’t always, but the distance of college had helped a bit. Arya cutting her hair short also helped since she didn’t have to sit through hours of braids anymore. Sana helped straighten in and get some decent but light-handed makeup on. “How long will this last?” Arya asked, looking at the minimal eyeliner and mascara. 

“If you don’t touch your eyes, should be till tomorrow,” Sansa replied, tucking her things back into her beautiful vanity. “You sneaking out for a boy tonight?” 

Arya blanched. “No,” she said, her responses a little too quick. Sansa had an evil grin on her lips. “How did you know?”

“You’re not that sneaky,” her sister chided. “But apparently sneaking enough for the 3 brothers on your side of the hallway,” she shook her head. She reached into her nightstand, pulling out a condom and handing it to Arya whose face went bright red. 

“Use protection please, or you’ll end up with a Jeoffery.” Arya had to laugh at that a bit. “Thanks.” 

She went to her room, picking out a nice dinner dress that she could tuck jean shorts under without being too obvious. Her mother was definitely particular when it came to these things and Arya didn’t want to poke the wolf. 

Dinner was… painful.

Robert was loud. Cersei barely said a word. Jeoffery was rude. His two siblings - Myrcella and Tommen - shrunk so far into their chairs they practically disappeared. Her father had a good time but had a worrisome tenseness to his face. Robb refused to stop glaring at Jeoffery but no fight broke out completely. Sansa handled herself gracefully along with Jon. Bran just stared… cause that’s how Bran was. Rickon seemed oblivious to it all, enjoying dinner thoroughly. 

It finally came to an end and Arya was able to sneak out. It took her a bit longer as she had to dodge some grounds crew here were still on the property but she was pretty confident that no one had seen her leave. 

The basement was already crammed full of hot, sweaty people when she arrived. Her sharp elbows came in handy for forcing her way through the crowd. She found the surly gym mate at his usual spot, a seat surprisingly available next to him. She took it gladly, she did want to see the fights after all. 

“Why are you all dolled up?” He gruffly asked. 

“Family dinner with the Baratheons,” She muttered, stealing his beer. Surprisingly he let her, grabbing another from a server walking past with a tray of them. 

“Sounds like torture.” 

“It really was.”

She looked behind her, looking for Gendry through the swarm of people but it was hard for her to see anyone. After a few minutes she gave up, sipping at the beer lightly. She wasn’t a beer fan but it could have been a worse beer. It was cold and doing what she needed it to do - settle her. 

“What?” She asked, feeling eyes on her. He shrugged. “You don’t normally shut up,” 

“Fuck off,” She said, he laughed. 

“Who on earth gave you a beer?” Gendry said, coming up to her left. “I’m plenty old enough to order one,” she replied, definitely taking a drink. 

“You definitely aren’t,” he said but left it alone after that. She felt his eyes linger on her face a bit longer than normal, her breath catching slightly as she tried to mask it with a large swig. She felt her companion leave, muttering something under his breath and Gendry quickly slipped into his seat before someone else could take it. 

“You’re friends with the Hound?” He asked her quizzically. 

“Friendly,” she corrected, realizing she didn’t even know the Hound was called the Hound. She shrugged it off though as the first small matches began. 

“Come on Lommy!” Gendry yelled, cheering on a blond haired, scrawny boy who stepped into the ring. 

“You know him?” 

“I’m from Flea Bottom in Kings Landing originally,” He said smoothly, “Came up here for work”.

“What do you do?” 

“Blacksmithing,” He said with a confident smile that she would happily stare at for eternity.

“Nothing like pounding away at things to make you feel better,” she said, her words surprisingly even her. His brow cocked at her, and she buried herself in her beer pretending that she did not just say that out loud. “Not wrong,” he said with a laugh and she felt her face burn a bit. He was going to be the death of her and she was okay with it. 

She looked down at her pocket, remembering the condom Sansa gave her. Maybe she should make that kind of move tonight. 

Lommy ended up losing his fight but not badly. The next few fights were boring, giving them a bit more opportunity to joke and talk. She lost herself in the joy of it. This wasn’t supposed to be a date, but maybe it was when he bought them each a second beer. She was feeling more confident as the alcohol finally hit her senses.

The big match was some foreigner named Syrio Forel against a Meryn Trant. Gendry said Meryn Trant was a shitty person who fought dirty so Arya was already excited to see him hopefully loose. They cheered on Mr. Forel loudly, laughing amongst themselves. 

The fight started out as expected. Syrio Forel spinning circles with some foreign fighting style against the most classic Meryn Trant. “Do you know what he’s doing?” Arya asked, leaning close to Gendry to be heard over the noise. He smelled like iron.

“Water dancing is what they call it I think,” he replied, enraptured by the fight. Arya liked the sound of it. It sounded like something she could trick her father into paying for without upsetting her mother horribly in the process. She looked back at Gendry, taking a long moment to appreciate his face before looking back at the fight. 

She couldn’t tell you where it went wrong… but it went wrong. 

Syrio had been doing well, but all of a sudden, Meryn landed a brutal punch that send Syrio to the ground. Meryn Trant lifted his foot up amidst screams. Slowly, he lowered his foot, crushing Syrio’s face into the ground before he could be yanked off by those closest to the circle. The bone cracking sound was deafening in the now quiet area. Everyone was frozen as blood pooled on the floor. Everyone was frozen as he didn’t move or groan or get up. 

“We have to go,” Gendry said, grabbing her arm suddenly. She was still staring at the blood as people rushed from the basement, Gendry basically carrying her outside. 

The air shocked her back into her body, the cold sending her skin into goose flesh. She wriggled free of Gendry’s grasps after a block, her breath coming back to her. She felt like she was going to be sick. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, putting a hand on her back. 

She nodded, slowly. “I… I should get home.” She said, clenching and unclenching her hands uncertainly. 

“Do you want a ride?”

She shook her head. “Um, no, thank you though.” She gave him a soft smile. “My parents would kill me if they saw that.”

He waited with her quietly until the Uber showed up. She snuck back into her home and suddenly all she wanted to do was be in her bed. Closing her eyes brought the blood and his head back to the front of her mind. She muttered Meryn Trants name over and over again, counting it until sleep finally whelmed her.


	5. Chapter 5

The next week went through Arya’s life as a blur. Instead of going to the gym, she’d hike through the forests just outside her family home. She’d occasionally find a small animal who’d succumbed to the way of things and give it a tiny, quick burial. She’d seen a lone wolf in the forest as well, watching her intently. She tried to befriend it to know avail.

Syrio’s face lingered in her mind constantly. What bothered her most is that she wasn’t as scared of it as she felt she should be. It made her mad, made her want to kick Meryn Trant’s teeth in, but she still wanted to fight.

Wouldn’t a sane person want to run back to the manor and hide forever? That’s what most people would do. 

Making her loop back to the manor, she saw Robert’s flock of people still bustling around their home. He had stayed for unknown reasons - sharing furious quiet whispers with her father at every possible moment. The gyms were technically run by his brother, Stannis, but he did still own them. The death was not a good thing for them surely. There was no mention of it in the news at all, so someone powerful killed it before it started. 

The last thing she wanted to do was to deal with any of them, so she walked the walls to the front of the building, making her way into town. 

The town was definitely wholly oblivious to the fights and she found it comforting. Shopkeepers still swept their storefronts, bakers still baked, everything was as it should be. 

Murky clouds hung overhead as she wove her way through the streets to one of her favorite stores. They sold animal equipment - i.e. some fancy equestrian stuff - but they also sold guns and knives. They’d hold auctions occasionally for more rare items which was usually pretty cool. Her father loved this place too and used to do “Dad-kid” trips to the store when her mother’s family was in town.

Stepping inside was like walking into an oven, but with a bell to sound your entrance. It was absurdly hot, so she took off her coat quickly before beginning to wander around. She had more than enough for her own horse but she always liked to grab extra things for her especially treats. She loitered at the section for a long minute, running her fingers over the different bags before settling on some small dried apple balls. 

Making her way to the back of the store, she felt the heat increase more. The shop keeper, Tobho Mott, had a forge outside in the back and had yet to be seen so he was probably working on something. From what she knew, horse shoes and custom work for families like hers were most of his business. 

The back of the business had large barn style doors that lead to the forge. She coughed a little at the roughness of the air before peaking through the opening in the door. 

Gendry was sitting patiently, shirtless, poking at the fire beneath a red-hot cauldron of metal. Sweat rolled down his body, her mouth suddenly parched. His pants hung low on his hips, the length of his abs on full display. His tattoos were black on his arm with the hard light, the bull and stag’s faces barely discernible. Their hands would leave soot trails over their sweaty skin as they ripped clothing out of their way. He’d bend her over the workstation or lift her into it. His body would be scalding against hers and she wouldn’t care.

“You need help?” Gendry suddenly called, jarring her from her thoughts. She swallowed, adjusting her legs slightly as she opened the door more fully. 

“I didn’t realize this is where you worked,” She tried to say cooly. He looked up at her more fully, head tilted slightly as he recognized her. 

“Hey!” He said, “Where else would a blacksmith work in this town?” He laughed, his voice filling the forge. “Give me a second and I’ll be up.”

She made a noise of acknowledgement before turning from the door, busying herself with some knives on a nearby display stand. Deep breaths in and out of her chest were a feeble attempt to get her mind back on track. With how few customers would come this time of year, they’d be able to go a few rounds in that forge without getting caught. But she’d probably get caught by her dad of all people. 

Gendry stepped through the door a few minutes later, dirty towel in hands and fully clothed. She was almost disappointed. She gave him a quick smile. 

“What are you working on?” 

“Just a helmet thing for myself. We’re low on commissions so it’s just something to practice on.” He said with a shrug. His blue eyes scanned her face for a minute. 

“How are you doing?” He asked more quietly, concerned. 

“I’m okay,” She said, “Just… processing I guess?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be a happy guy if I don’t have to see something like that again,” he added a chuckle but it was more forced. She hated the sound of it compared to his normal laughter. “Do you need me to ring you up?” He motioned to the treats in her hand. 

“Oh,” She said looking at them, “Yes please.”

She followed him to the register and she quickly paid for the items. “Thank you,” she said, taking the bag from him. She paused, not wanting to leave but having no idea of what to do with herself next. Glancing at her phone briefly as he fiddled with their record book - because Mott refused to upgrade to something more convenient for everyone - she got an idea. 

“Would you want to grab lunch?” She asked wishfully. It was a bit late for lunch but nothing awful. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her of her own lack of food today. Gendry actually seemed a bit surprised - she could get used to that too. 

“Sure,” he said after a minute, his infectious smile back. “Just give me a bit to run back to the forge for my things.” She nodded with a smile before busying herself again with some more knives. Maybe she could learn to throw knives, that would be pretty cool. And give her something to do in the meantime. 

Gendry showed up a few seconds later and they went out the door. “Is there anywhere you like in particular?” he asked. 

“Lets go to Hot Pies,” She replied. Hot Pies wasn’t an excellent place but it was cheap and delicious. Very much a local favorite that she hoped never made its way to instagram. “Have you been there yet?” 

He smiled, “Hot pie and I knew each other in King's Landing. Came here at different times though.” 

“You’re one of those people who makes friends with everyone aren’t you?” She accused, feigning disdain. He laughed, rolling his shoulders. 

“Just depends, it's more people just find me.”

“Uh huh,” she said rolling her eyes a bit at him. 

Lunch at Hot Pies was somehow better than it normally was. Her water was somehow crisper, her food more delicious. His eyes kept finding hers and she couldn’t break herself away from them. They brushed hands more than one and the air between them was palpable. She gave a silent prayer to all the gods she knew that she wasn’t just making all this up in her head. 

Unfortuantely though, all things must end eventually. Her phone rang loudly, her mother’s face flashing up on her phone. She groaned, “I’m sorry, I gotta take this.” He nodded, understandingly as she rose from the table, answering it quickly while heading outside. 

“Hey,”

“Robert is treating us to a play tonight, I need to you start heading back from wherever you went in town.” 

“What play?”

“Something based off the Battle of the Trident, it’ll be self serving but we have to go,” Arya smiled a bit at that. Robert had fought in that battle during the war so it was unshocking that he wanted to go to a play about it and probably yell over it about how it “really” was. 

“Okay I will head back once I pay for my food.”

“Thank you, love you,”

“Love you too.” 

She hung up the phone, heading inside. Gendry raised an eyebrow curiously. “We’re going out tonight apparently so I gotta head home,” she said begrudgingly. 

“All good,” he said, smiling. She absently licked her lips, going for her wallet. His hand stopped hers. “I already paid, you’re good.”

She blushed a bit. “You don’t have to,” 

“I don’t,” he said with a smirk. She felt her heart whip around her chest a bit as she tucked her wallet back into her coat. 

“Thank you,” She said, awkwardly getting up. “I’ll see you around?” 

“Of course,” he replied, warmly smiling at her. She returned it before turning and leaving. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to slide into his side of the booth and makeout with him feverelessly. Or they could do something cute like a milkshake with two straws. She liked the former idea a lot more. 

Deciding to walk a bit before hailing an uber home, she needed time to get herself back to herself before being with her family. She didn’t want to bother with their invasive questions or Robb and Jon getting all puffy that the baby sister might have someone in her life. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice right away that a few men had begun to follow her. 

One suddenly appeared in front of her, forcing her to a surprised stop. He had a gun, and was threatening her for something but she couldn’t hear the words over her heartbeat. She glanced behind her at the other two before looking back at the leader. He gestured to her pockets and she pulled out her wallet. 

“Now hand it over Lady Stark and we’ll be on our way.” Instead, she dropped in. “Oops,” 

He grumbled at her before bending down to pick it up. Her knee caught his head with a sharp thunk before she turned around and swung at the other two. Their surprise gave her an advantage for a minute, knocking one out cold before one grabbed her arms, pinning them against her back hard. She struggled, trying to land some kicks against them. 

All of a sudden, she was on the ground and she heard a man growling something. One straight up took off running, the other was knocked hard to the ground unconscious. She looked up to see the Hound looming over her. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed doing shit like that girl,” He growled at her. 

She gathered herself, standing up and tucking her wallet back in her pocket. “They were trying to rob me! What was I supposed to do?” 

“It’s just a wallet, no reason to die for it.” He crossed his arms in a paternal way and she desperately wanted to smack him for it. She gave him a frustrated glare. 

“I’m not just going to let strangers rob me!” She wasn’t oblivious to why they targeted her - she was a Stark - but that didn’t mean she had to just roll over and do whatever they said. She was never going to be that type of person. He seemed unphased by the comment, his dad face still glaring down at her. 

“Whatever, Thanks” She said curtly, pushing past him. Behind her she could hear him groan loudly. 

“Girl.” he said firmly, catching her attention enough to stop and look back at him. 

“Gym tomorrow 9 am.” 

“What?”

He was too far away to catch it, or didn’t care enough to repeat himself.


	6. Chapter 6

Rain trickled against her window as she quickly packed up her things for the gym. She could hear Robert’s boisterous laughter from downstairs and it was making her head numb. Cersei kept disappearing for long periods of time and while Arya didn’t like her, she definitely understood the need for it. 

She ran quickly to the car, hoping to make it to the gym on time. She was definitely running a little late. The Hound was hopefully not going to kill her for it. 

Bolting into the gym, she saw the Hound talking to Mr. Seaworth by the desk. “Hello,” she said, excited already. Mr. Seaworth nodded glumly at her while the Hound didn’t bother. 

“Are the fights done?” She asked, looking at Mr. Seaworth expectantly. 

“No,” he said with a shake of his head, crossing his arms. “But Stannis isn’t pleased about what happened so there are going to be a bit stricter rules for who fights.” It made sense. People came to watch some teeth get knocked out and even a little blood, not to see them get murdered.

“When are they going to restart?” 

“Another week or two.” he looked at her curiously. “You still want to fight?” 

She nodded. “He’s going to help me get better.” she motioned to the Hound who grunted. Mr. Seaworth gave him a bemused look and attempted to hide a chuckle. 

“You really want her mother coming here to figure out how she ended up in the hospital?” the Hound asked gruffly. Mr. Seaworth nodded at that. Her father was a war hero but her mother definitely could crack cathedrals with her stare. Plus her father and brothers weren’t exactly going to challenge her on coming down here to figure out what happened. 

The Hound pushed off the desk, motioning for her to follow. The bags had been freshly cleaned and reeked a bit of bleach. She set down her stuff and wrapped her hands quickly. 

“Go ahead and hit it,” he said. It felt weird being watched while she tried to focus on punching the bag like she normally would. In a fight, the audience’s eyes weren’t really this present in her mind since she had an opponent. This was more lab mouse being studied by a scientist. She stopped after a few hits looking at him expectantly. 

“Who the fuck taught you to hit like that?” 

She was a bit taken aback. “Jon?”

“He fights like a cunt.” 

He walked over to her left, lifting up her hand towards the bag with surprising gentleness. He opened her hand a bit. “Your thumb is fine but you keep hitting with this knuckle here,” he pointed to flat part just under the middle knuckle. “You’re not getting your full strength behind this spot and you’re going to break your fingers if you need to hit at someone bigger. You need to hit here,” he moved his fingers farther back to just above her knuckles. “But watch for buckling because you’ll break your wrist if you land back here,” he pointed towards the back of her palm. 

She nodded quietly. Gendry had told her to watch about the buckling too. 

He let go of her hand, rapping his against the bag. He moved to stand behind it, keeping it from swinging back too far. “Try again, take your time.” 

She did, focusing hard on where she hit. Her wrist stung slightly when she hit the bag, her face grimacing. 

“Bag’s a bit soft so your wrists are weak.” He commented, “People don’t swing from a hook.” She nodded understandingly. She took it a bit easy with her hits, focusing on form and letting her wrists adapt to it. The pain faded after a few dozen hits. 

“Good, now kick.” 

After 45 minutes, she had a new level of soreness in her body. Her wrists were more tired than after writing an essay and her shins were peppered with small bruises. Her hair was slick from sweat as she guzzled down water. 

“Take a day, make sure to stretch. We’ll meet on Thursday.” He said. 

“Thank you.” She replied after a few gasping breaths. He grunted at her, turning and walking away to the weights for his own workout. 

She took her sweet time doing stretches and yoga poses before finally caving and heading home. She thought about just changing and heading back out again, maybe grabbing lunch with Gendry again. However, setting foot in her home proved that that was not going to be happening today.

Her home was chaos.

Fire trucks, police, and EMT’s were all parked outside her home. Quickly, she slipped past, finding her mother outside. Her face was tight. She waved Arya over to her, bringing her into a quick hug. 

“What happened?” 

“Robert was showing off some boar mount he had shipped here and somehow ended up stabbing himself on the tusk.” She explained, her voice not masking her judgement.

“How?”

“Only the gods know. Please go up to your room and stay there, I’ll come get you when it’s calmed down.”

Arya nodded, slipping into the house. Robert and Jeoffery were both yelling about something and Arya suddenly felt bad for whatever EMTs were having to lift his fat arse onto a stretcher. She quietly darted up to their rooms. Robb’s door was open, Theon and him laughing contently. Sansa’s door was shut, her voice on the phone - probably Margery - faintly carrying through the door. Bran had weird meditation music going and it sounded like Jon was trying to teach Rickon guitar. 

She slipped inside her room, dumping her stuff and stripping off her sweaty clothes quickly. She drew a bath for herself, wanting to just relish in some hot water for a while. While the bath drew, she absently played on her phone. 

She needed to get Gendry’s phone number she realized. This random running into each other was not going to work forever. Curiously, she poked around on instagram and stumbled onto his page. Surprisingly, he was being followed by Jon. When on earth did they even meet? She wondered. Did he know about the fights?

Gendry’s instagram didn’t feature much in the ways of fighting. He had some delicious workout videos, some blacksmithing projects, dorky smiles, and typical boy things. He apparently was restoring some muscle car which he was proud off. 

Setting it down, she slid into the hot bath water. She moaned as she felt her body relax. Dabbing her hand dry, she picked her phone back up. Noticing he had a story posted, she clicked on it. It was a video of him in a tattoo parlor. Apparently he was getting some interesting claw marks going across his hips. She paused the video, noticing just the faintest prickles of hair peeking out from his boxers from how low the claw marks went. 

Impulsively, she tapped the follow button but couldn’t bring herself quiet to dm him just yet. 

Setting her phone down again, she let her eyes slip shut as she dreamt about licking down the claw marks. Her body hummed, happy at the image but she couldn’t quite get herself to where she needed to be. She had already become accustomed to this and needed more. 

She needed him.


	7. Chapter 7

Catlyn Stark used to tell Arya that she came into the world late, and therefore was just going to be late for the rest of her life. Arya had fought back against the statement and usually strived to be punctual. 

This day was not a day where she was winning this fight. 

She was late as hell to her training with the Hound, who proceeded to punish her with the most grueling workout she had done. Her arms were jelly and somehow her legs were still straight. Holding her keys and phone was exhausting. The fights were slated to start again in two days so they weren’t going to train again so she could recover fully.

She had planned to message Gendry about Lunch but that was all a lot more moving than she really felt like doing right now. 

Going home was significantly less appealing. Robert had returned and was demanding round the clock care until Cersei was able to safely transport him home. It was unbearable having these people in her home all the damn time. Jeoffery especially only left to go torture animals or buy hookers neither of which were very time consuming activities for him. 

Swallowing her resolve - and some advil - she opened her phone. She went to Gendry, sending him a message about grabbing lunch again. She chewed at her lip, anxiously waiting for a reply as she sat just outside the gym, letting her legs and arms come back to life. 

He replied, asking if she’d mind grabbing something and bringing it back to the shop as he was expecting a pickup over the next couple hours. She smiled, reply yes, and gathering her willpower to stand. She grabbed takeout from Hot pies before heading over to the shop. As long as she kept moving, things were okay but any stops meant all that pain came rushing back. 

It’s okay, she could totally find ways to never stop moving. 

She slipped into the shop, finding Gendry up front with a tall, lanky man. They exchanged pleasantries before he left. His eyes lingered on Arya, making her skin crawl. 

“Hey,” Gendry said, face splitting into a wonderful smile. “Thank you for bringing stuff here.”

“No problem,” she replied politely. He guided her back towards the forge where he had cleaned up a spot for them to eat. She set their food down, all of her movements stiff now that the lactic acid was building. 

“You okay?” He asked, tilting his head. She took of her jacket, bruises evident around her elbows from doing planks for days. 

“Yeah, just training. It hurts.” She said woefully. He laughed a bit, gently touching her arm.

“Ice baths sometimes help if hot water isn’t doing it.” He said, sitting down and unpacking their food for them. 

She made a face. “Over my dead body,” She grumbled. She could tolerate the cold to a point but ice bath was definitely over that limit for her. He laughed at her more fully, stealing some of her fries in the process. She smacked his hand which went largely unnoticed. They ate quietly for a moment, relishing in their food. He looked tired and she probably looked like shit too. 

“Been busy?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod, pushing his hair out of his face. “That guy earlier wanted some custom work on a rush order. Paid a ton for it but it took forever.”

“Who was he?” 

“No idea, some consultant for the Baratheons.” 

Interesting, she hadn’t seen him at the house at all. He may have just shown up though to help with the whole getting Robert 6 hours south back to Kings Landing. He was probably here to try and keep them from spending a small fortune to do so. The Lannisters and Baratheons both have a shitton of money though so it probably wouldn’t make a dent. 

“Wanna take a nap after this?” she asked, half jokingly, half feeling full enough that a nap was totally possible. He raised an eyebrow at her, looking around the forge.

“Not exactly anywhere comfortable.”

“Pillow,” she said pointing at him, “bed” she said pointing at the floor with a smile. “Seems like we have everything.” 

“Why do I have to be the pillow?” he asked, smiling over his food. 

“Cause you’re comfier.” She replied quickly. After finishing their food, they quickly cleaned up. Someone came in so Gendry had to run up to help them really quickly, leaving her in the forge all by herself. 

She ran her fingers over some of the partial projects and molds. She found the helmet he had made and she had to admit, it was pretty awesome looking. It had two bull horns on either side of it that were surprisingly sharp. It was heavy too. Too heavy for her head.

She took a few deep breaths, gathering her willpower. 

He came back down after a few minutes, water in his hand that he offered her. She motioned to the helmet. “This turned out awesome.”

“Thank you,” He briefly moved it, positioning it more securely over it’s mount. She put the water down haphazardly behind her. She moved closer to him, her hand falling on his belt. He looked at her with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. She pursed her lips for a moment, before lifting herself up on her toes - holy crap did that hurt - and placing a chaste kiss to his lips. 

He looked at her, legitimately gobsmacked for a minute. He didn’t move though, their eyes locking for a long minute. 

Suddenly, his lips were on hers, his hands pulling her into his chest. She melted into it, her arms coming around his head. Their lips were soft but moved assuredly with each other. She nipped at his bottom lip with her teeth earning a deep growl from him that sparked nothing but fire inside her. 

They separated after a moment for air, long enough for him to lift her onto the table, sliding between her legs as their lips found each other again. She whines appreciatively at the new position, digging her nails into him as she pulls him flush against her. She can feel his bulge against her center and she can’t wait for these clothes to just come off. 

He moves to her neck, giving a sharp nip. “We can go to my apartment if you want,” he said quietly. That would probably be more comfortable, but Arya wasn’t known for her patience. 

She pulled back to pull off her shirt, tossing it on the floor fluidly. Her hand found his hair, pulling lightly as she pulled him back into her. “I’m good here,” she breathed against his lips before kissing him forcefully. He groaned into the kiss, his hands running over her skin briefly. He only pulled back to pull his own shirt over his head. 

She ran her fingers over his abs appreciatively, noticing the faint trail of hair going down the middle of it. She was surprised it wasn’t darker. “Enjoying yourself?” he joked. 

“Not yet,” she quipped with a dangerous smirk, pulling him back to her by his belt before undoing it. He found her neck again, biting at the skin in between taking her sports bra off. His lips found her nipples quickly and she mewled, one hand clutching his hair hard. He lavished them, twirling his tongue around them before giving hard sucks. 

He kissed and niped his way lower. She lifted herself up enough for him to pull off her leggings. Working out commando had initially started out for health benefits but suddenly became a lot more convenient. She was also proud for remembering to grab a quick shower after training. He quirked a brow at her, eyes dark. She moved her legs to slip out of the leggings completely, spreading herself for him. 

“It gets in my way,” she said with a coy shrug. He made a guttural noise before burying his face between her. His tongue found her clit and she almost sobbed at the feeling. Her whole body was lighting up and suddenly everything was just too much. His hair in her hand was too soft, her muscles too sore, his tongue felt too good, and everything made her body ache. 

She had never had this done to her before and holy fuck she was missing out. 

His tongue was precise, swirling around her clit before his lips pulled it into a suction. She made noises she didn’t know she was capable of making. He was definitely pleased with himself because she could feel him grinning against her. His eyes were dark as they peaked over her curls before disappearing behind closed eyes. 

A finger slid into her easily and she was about to tap out. She couldn’t take how electric her body felt. She pulled his hair, passively attempting to get him to stop but he definitely wasn’t interested in that. A second finger slipped into her and she was suddenly aware she was probably leaking all over his table but she couldn’t care. He curled his fingers and sucked and she howled as she came undone. 

She was breathing hard when he rose to his feet, a disgustingly smug smirk on his face. She smacked him lazily. “That was rude,” she said.

“Really? You seemed to be enjoying it,” He replied, licking his fingers. The fingers that had just been inside her. Her mouth fell open a bit, awed by the sight. He laughed, leaning in to kiss her quickly, her taste strong on his lips. 

“Do you wanna continue?” he asked, shifting a bit. She glanced down, sympathizing that he was probably painfully hard in his constricting pants. Her mouth watered a bit. 

“Yes,” She gasped, pulling him into her. She opened his pants, pushing them and his boxers over his hips. She ran her hands over his wonderful ass, squeezing lightly, before she gently ran her fingers over his length. He shivered. 

His head fell to her shoulders, his hot breath against her shoulder. She grabbed him more fully, stroking firmly and he about fell over. She could get drunk off this kind of power over him. She enjoyed herself for a moment, before pushing him back slightly.

“Condom’s in my wallet.” Without question, he went and grabbed it, pulling it out. She helped him slide it over his length, placing kisses to the side of his face. 

Without much ceremony, he slid into her slowly. She hung onto him, nails digging into his shoulder. “Yes” she breathed. He laughed a bit into her, going slowly until he was fully inside her. He paused for a long minute and good lord she was going to kill him.

She bit his shoulder hard. “Move.” He growled.

He obeyed, moving hard and steady, reducing her words to nothing more than pleased whimpers against him. 

It doesn’t take them long to fall apart together. Her second orgasm is even more intense than the first, leaving her vision white, and her body back to jelly. He staggered a bit, his eyes blown out and lips bright red. They were breathing hard together for a long minute. 

Begrudgingly, they separated. She ran to the bathroom with her clothes quickly while he cleaned himself and the table up. She came back, semi presentable whereas he had only gotten as far as his pants. 

He looked over at her with a dopey smile. “That was an unexpected surprise.” 

She shrugged, snuggling herself close to him. “I’m ready to go to your apartment if you want.” He laughed, kissing her head. 

“Let me close up.” He gave her a chaste kiss before moving to do just that, finally putting his shirt back on. She bit her lip a bit, giddy. She looked at his bench, her butt print still a bit visible in the dust and general mess of the forge. 

She was proud of it.


End file.
